


Acceptance

by jacemorgensterns



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-23 06:11:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16613432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacemorgensterns/pseuds/jacemorgensterns
Summary: Three scenes in three different locations that help Draco on his way towards accepting that he loves her. Post-war Dramione. Draco pov.





	1. The Slytherin common room

Draco arrived at the common room past curfew once again that night. To all appearances the portrait opened and closed with no one to come in until Draco lifted the Disillusionment Spell that he was known to use more often these days. Everyone in their friends group knew he was sneaking off to somewhere, he wasn’t being terribly subtle about it, but no one knew where to or who he was with.  
  
It wasn’t any of anyone’s business who Draco was spending his time with. He didn’t like to keep anything a secret from his friends, particularly not from Pansy, but for now it was just easier. No one would get it anyway. So even when Daphne remarked that he looked like he had been making out with someone - there were some telltale signs like his reddened lips - like the gossip queen she was and the others were obnoxiously asking about it, he wasn’t going to tell.  
  
No, he would only get incredulous looks and remarks if he told anyone that the person he was seeing was Hermione Granger. He wondered if they would even believe him. Enemies for seven years, it seemed that both of them had come to their senses after the war and after rescuing one another from certain death. Draco had lost his belief system due to the war and felt generally lost. Hermione, on the other hand, finally learned that there was more than one side to a story and that good and bad were very relative concepts. They complemented each other.  
  
What had started with a few accidental run-ins at the castle and awkward small talk had soon grown into a mutually agreed on friendship. It hadn’t always been easy because of their very different backgrounds, but they came a long way with patience and understanding instead of immediate judgement and thinking they knew when they didn’t. About two months ago Draco finally found enough courage to kiss her and things had been good since, surprisingly good.  
  
Merlin knew that things may not be so good once other people started finding out. _The Brightest Witch of her Age_ and _The Youngest Death Eater to Ever have joined the Ranks_ was hardly a fairytale anyone wanted to witness. His friends weren’t going to take it well, never mind _her_ friends. And even if they got past all that there were their families to deal with. He couldn’t tell what was worse: a muggleborn telling her muggle parents she was dating a boy that used to bully her and hated her kind until the war or a pureblood telling his pureblood parents that he was dating a muggleborn girl that they all used to hate due to her blood and alliance.  
  
Shortly said, it could not come to any good. The main reason why all the sneaking around was happening was so they could find out what was going on between them without anyone else having an opinion about it. It wasn’t theirs to have an opinion about, not just yet. And if didn’t come to anything there was no harm done and no one had to know.  
  
That was what Draco was thinking, anyway, when he went on his way to the dormitory to try to get some much-needed sleep. It was due to that that he visibly jumped when he heard another person’s voice. It was Pansy, who was sitting by the fireplace and who was glaring at him as though they were six years again and he just stole her favourite toy. He had never done any such thing, though, so she didn’t need to stare at him like that.  
  
“I know who you’ve been seeing,” she said. “When were you going to tell us that you’ve been screwing a mudblood, Draco?” Now _that_ was exactly the kind of obnoxious and ignorant remark that he had been trying to avoid.  
  
Draco rolled his eyes and folded his arms over one another, glaring at her until she looked away. She didn’t. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. “I’m not screwing anyone.”  
  
“Don’t lie to me, Draco,” Pansy replied instantly. “I saw you make out with Granger.”  
  
That still didn’t mean that he was screwing her, as Pansy so eloquently put it, but he wasn’t going to argue terms with her right now. He wasn’t sure what the right way to go about this was. Denying it seemed out of the question, because she wasn’t going to make such an accusation if she hadn’t been completely sure. That left dealing with it, but that couldn’t come to any good. His best friend was still a blood purist, after all. 

“I’m not talking about it,” he simply said. “I’m going to get some sleep. Good night.” With that, he turned back around and wanted to head towards the eighth year boys’ dormitory, but Pansy’s voice stopped him again, this time around with a question.  
  
“Are you in love with her? Do you love her? Is that it?” Pansy questioned things she shouldn’t be asking because Draco didn’t know the answer himself. He was confused and Hermione was helping him figure it out just by being there for him. He could slowly learn to accept that maybe blood didn’t mean as much as he formerly thought it did. He could learn to realize that maybe it wasn’t his blood and his last name but his cleverness and sense of humour that were reasons that people liked him and wanted to spent time with him.

Draco turned back around to look at Pansy. Apparently his face expression spoke for him for once, because Pansy raised her eyebrows while she was looking at him and shook her head. Silence feel between them for a couple of seconds until she broke it. “You love her,” Pansy concluded, and her voice was soft. “That’s really screwed up.”  
  
He hated to agree, but he agreed. It was too difficult. They were too different. It would never work out between them. But maybe that was what their problem was: neither one did well when something was easy. They wanted difficult, they wanted someone that challenged them to be better (smarter, stronger) and they were that person for each other.  
  
“Good night,” was all he said before leaving for the dormitory at last. It would just be another sleepless night, but at least thoughts about Granger keeping him up were favourable to the alternative. 


	2. Malfoy Manor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has some implicit mentions of torture and murder, seeing as it goes slightly further into what Draco has experienced during the war. If any of those are triggering for you, please do proceed with caution.

Draco was about to do one of the hardest things in his life. And that was saying something coming from the boy who had to torture, attempt to murder and participate in a number of battles for the sole purpose of survival. In comparison telling your parents who you were seeing should be a walk in the park. It wasn’t.   
  
No, because the person he was seeing was _one,_ a muggleborn, _two,_ someone who sided on the opposite side during the war and _three,_ someone that he had been enemies with since they first set foot inside of Hogwarts. For his parents point one and point two would mean they would not be happy about it and point three would mean they didn’t understand it. All everyone knew, his parents included, was that Hermione Granger and him never got along.

It was quite the contrary. They had been getting along rather well. Draco was never bored around Hermione. She was clever, undoubtedly so, and she always managed to see everything from a different point of view then he did. Now he wouldn’t have been accepting of that formerly but she was teaching him that different opinions and point of views were not a bad thing. They made the world into the interesting place it was. She made him see things differently. Hell, she may even be making him into a better person simply by being around him and he didn’t even mind that.   
  
Of course how they went from being tentative friends to making out in abandoned classrooms to agreeing that it may be the time to tell their parents who they were seeing was another story entirely. Draco didn’t know exactly how it happened himself. It just made sense. She fit with him. She was his equal and better than him both and that was what people needed in a relationship, wasn’t it? Someone that supported you and pushed you to be better both. Hermione did that for him and he hoped he was doing good enough of a job to do that for her too.  
  
There were days that his head was in a tangle and he could barely get out of bed as it was, never mind look at her and understand why she’d want to be with him. There were other days that he caught himself wondering what he wanted with her. That it took time to change a belief system that you had known since you were born was something Draco was experiencing now. It wasn’t meant to be easy.   
  
But there were also good days and those were the majority. Days that he could sit and just watch Hermione talk, grin at her and wonder how he got so lucky. He could admire her focus on achieving her goals - _such a Slytherin trait,_ the ambition - and admire how she didn’t seem to realize how beautiful she was, no matter how many times he kept telling her. 

Hermione Granger was the light of his life currently and he rather thought she knew it because his face expression while he was looking at her had to give it away. He grinned and smiled around her more often. It was due to her that he tried to consider multiple point of views before judging about anything because she had done that for him, too.   
  
So he had to tell his parents. He couldn’t avoid the subject any longer. He owed everyone involved that much. He owed it to Hermione because he wasn’t ashamed of her (like the hiding may imply) and wanted to be with her. He owed it to his parents because he respected them a great deal and wanted to be able to discuss this. And he owed it to himself, because he was happy after being miserable for a long time and he should be able to share it.   
  
He moved out of the manor first thing after graduation and mostly saw his parents when they came to visit him in his London apartment, but for this occasion Draco apparated to Wiltshire. When he walked into the manor and was on his way to the dining room where he knew his parents would be he walked past the hallway leading to the former dining room, which was occasionally used as torture chamber and what not during the war because it was nearby one of the stairs to the basement. They used to keep potion ingredients and expensive firewhiskey in there, but it had been prisoners rebelling against the regime back then.  
  
Pausing, he turned back and walked towards the room he avoided having to go into for the past three years. Once he arrived he stared up at the chandelier and then down towards the ground, where his now-girlfriend had been tortured by his aunt during the war. Bella would have gone completely insane if she could see him now. His parents were supposed to have changed, but part of it was just to keep up appearances to the public. It had been like that for him too, until he started spending an increasing amount of time with Granger.  
  
He heard footsteps approach, but a hand on his shoulder when this person paused behind him made him flinch anyway. Narcissa was tactful enough to ignore that. “You remember that we don’t use this part of the manor any more, don’t you?” she asked softly. “I was thinking about redecorating the entire place. Give the walls another colour. Change the floor. Get rid off the chandelier.”  
  
“That sounds nice,” Draco replied, still staring at the spot where Hermione was tortured. “I do know that we don’t use this part of the manor any longer. I just haven’t been back here.”   
  
“You don’t have to be back here,” his mother reminded him. “Come on. Let’s go find your father.” She didn’t want him to be back there, Draco thought while his mother ushered him out of the room slowly. Maybe she didn’t want to be back there either. The reasons why not were undoubtedly different. It reminded his mother of the sister he lost, whereas it reminded Draco of the person that his aunt tortured here.   
  
His father was found in their actual dining room, head bent over some reports that Draco guessed were from the apothecary. Soon enough his mother had gotten all of them something to drink - tea for his father and black coffee for both Narcissa and him - and Draco sat down opposite his parents, taking a long sip of the coffee before saying what he had to.  
  
“I’m just going to go ahead and say it,“ he said. “There’s no need to drag this out. As you must have caught up on by now I have been seeing someone and I thought you should know who it is. I don’t expect you to understand and I would respect it if you needed some time to adjust to the idea.”  
  
His parents exchanged a glance between them and Draco could just see the two of them theorize about who he could possibly be talking about. Who could he possibly be seeing that they needed time to adjust to? Well, they were in for a surprise.   
  
“I’m seeing Hermione Granger.“ At least that was out. He pressed his lips together and watched how his parents exchanged another glance. His mother laid her hand on his father’s arm as though to warn him not to say anything he may regret later. Therefore it was unsurprising to him that his father stayed quiet.   
  
His mother, on the other hand, spoke. “Hermione Granger?“ she repeated hesitantly. “The girl that -” Draco waited to see how she was going to describe Hermione nicely, “The girl that was with Potter when he was on the run from the Dark Lord? The clever girl?“ Well, that was one way to put it and a very subtle one at that too. Draco was slightly surprised that she hadn’t mentioned Hermione’s blood status, but it was going to come. He just knew it.  
  
“Yes, the clever girl,” he said calmly. “She’s brilliant. Smarter than me.”  
  
“She is the mud-” his father started, only to be cut short by his wife. There it was. Draco was waiting for it to happen. He just didn’t think it would be so soon.  
  
“Lucius,” Narcissa said warningly and send his father an icy gaze before turning back to look at him. “You’re right, Draco. We do need some time to adjust to the idea. We raised you well and -“  
  
“You raised me to hate people with blood different than mine,“ Draco interrupted her. “You raised me to believe I was better than her because of her background. And you were wrong. She is way better than me. She’s smarter and a better person than me, but she makes me want to be better. Your blood purity philosophy, on the other hand, almost had us all killed, left me scars and made me into a murderer, so I’m not doing it any longer.” 

The silence that fell after those words was deafening. He probably should not have gone to have a look at the former dining room because he was angry now and feeling it. He wrapped his arms around the mug of coffee and glared at the table until he could school his expression back into neutrality.   
  
“I’m sorry,” he said after he calmed down. “That was too much.“  
  
“You must really care about this girl if you think about it that way,” Lucius said, surprisingly considerate given the situation.  
  
Draco shrugged his shoulders a little. “I love her,“ was all he said.


	3. Draco's apartment

Watching someone sleep was super strange. Draco had it done to him before and it always bothered him. There was nothing romantic about it. There was one person blissfully asleep and unaware of the situation and there was another person laying in the bed beside him (or so he would hope, I’d get even more strange if that wasn’t the case) wide awake and looking at them while they were blissfully asleep and unaware. It made no sense to him.

So therefore he definitely, decidedly, was not doing that. He hadn’t wrapped his arms around his pillow after pulling the blankets over the both of them a little tighter. And he absolutely wasn’t watching how Hermione turned around a little as though she was trying to get more comfortable after he adjusted the blankets. No. He did not become a pathetic loser that watched their significant other sleep because that was weird.   
  
He should be making coffee or updating his journal, which was laying on the nightstand beside his bed. Instead he was watching Hermione Granger sleep, her bushy hair covering almost her whole face and her mouth open a little, and he found himself smiling about it. He was a weak man when it came to her and he didn’t mind it at all.  
  
“Are you watching me sleep?” Hermione sounded adorable when she just woke up. Draco tried to dodge her when she went in to kiss him, but her reflexes were surprisingly fast when she just woke up. Maybe she had pretended to be asleep. He would never know. Hermione succeeded, ignoring his words about his terrible morning breath, and kissed him before wrapping her arms around him. Draco pulled her closer towards him immediately and pressed a kiss to her hair.  
  
“I was not watching you sleep,” he said solemnly. “That’s weird and pathetic.”   
  
“Sure, Draco,” she replied, her undertone indicating that she didn’t believe him. Draco rolled his eyes, something that she probably didn’t see, and pressed his face in her hair for a couple of seconds. Hermione Granger was really making someone else out of him, someone who cared about romance and holding open doors and compliments and what not, and he was letting her do it. Grumble and complain all he did at times, but he didn’t mind it at all.   
  
“Do you want some coffee?” he asked after a couple of minutes when he just woke from drowsing again. “You won’t even have to get up for it. I’ll bring it to you, as long as you promise not to spill it on my very expensive sheets.”    
  
His intention was to kiss her one last time before getting up from the bed, but the kiss lasted way too long, no doubt as her intention had been, and before he knew what he was doing he could only focus of the hot press of her mouth against his and the way her hands leaned against his bare shoulders. He even forgot about his terrible morning breath which she apparently did not mind either. While his legs tangled with hers one of his hands went to her hair, messing it up further, and he planned on learning the precise outline of her clavicle when he heard the front door of his apartment open.  
  
He froze immediately, broke the kiss and looked at Hermione, clearly panicking.   
  
She didn’t seem to see the problem as much as he did, probably because she couldn’t guess who would be using the spare key to get into his apartment. “Did you invite someone else?” she teased. “Did you forget we would be spending the day together?”

No, he didn’t forget about Hermione. In fact, he had been so busy thinking about Hermione that he forgot to cancel the weekly coffee that he got with his mother. As soon as she let him go he stumbled out of bed and reached out for a T-shirt to wear upon the sweatpants he wore to bed. Then he all but sprinted for the bedroom door and was quick to close it behind him before walking through the hallway on his way to the living room, where he encountered his mother.   
  
She frowned at him as soon as she saw him. “It’s nine AM. Why do you look like you just got out of bed?” That was what he looked like? Was she sure about that?  
  
“Good morning to you too, mother,” he said dryly. “I’m sorry, but I need to cancel. I can’t go have coffee with you right now.”  
  
“I can wait here until you shower and change your clothes,” his mother said reassuringly. “That’s not a problem at all. You should have let me know and we could have scheduled it half past nine.” She was not getting this at all.   
  
“Let me rephrase,” Draco said. “We’re not alone right now. I have someone else over.”  
  
Narcissa looked genuinely puzzled whereas Draco was puzzled what she needed to be puzzled about. Wasn’t it obvious? “I’m sure Blaise or Theo can take care of themselves, Draco,” she said. “They’ve stayed over at the spare room before, right?” She was not getting this at all.   
  
He glanced backwards to the hallway and hoped to Merlin that Hermione would have the good sense to stay in the bed until he returned. This was not the way that she should be meeting her possible future mother in law. “Mom,” he tried again, “I’m having Hermione over. And she’s not exactly in my spare room.” No, more like laying on his side of the bed.   
  
He could see the exact moment that realization hit his mother. She looked him up and down, the messy state of his hair and still in pyjamas, and nodded slowly. “Right,” she said. “I’ll come back later in that case. Let me know when you have the time.”   
  
“This is why you don’t use the spare key when I don’t respond to knocking on my door, mom,” Draco said dryly while he walked her to the door. He hoped this was a lesson learned, because he had no doubt his mother would have been capable of walking into his bedroom to see if he even heard her if he had taken too long.

He wanted to lean in to kiss her cheek as goodbye, but his mother dodged him. “You have morning breath,” she said. “You should at least brush your teeth, Draco. Have I taught you nothing these past twenty years?”  
  
“I know I have morning breath,” he said exasperated. “Apparently it wasn’t a priority.”  
  
Closing the front door after his mother disappeared, he walked back towards the bedroom slowly to see Hermione was still laying on his side of the bed. He studied the sight from the doorway for a couple of seconds before he walked over to her.   
  
“You don’t want to know,” he said. “And I have morning breath. I can’t believe you’re okay kissing me like this. This,” he gestured at himself before he fell into bed beside her, “is not remotely attractive at the moment.”  
  
Hermione shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t mind,” she said.  
  
Leaning up on the mattress, Draco studied her closely for a couple of seconds. “I love you,” he said as though he concluded it just now. He hadn’t. He just saw it get confirmed for at least the hundredth time and finally found a way to say it aloud.


End file.
